


Summoned

by Ashling



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book/Movie: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Gen, I moved around the timelines a lil, POV Outsider, Triple Drabble, poor Mr. Pevensie Narnia is stressful af for being a parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25113634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/pseuds/Ashling
Summary: He's very happy and all, but if he's honest, dying would have made moresense.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 61
Collections: Multifandom Drabble 2020





	Summoned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nabielka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nabielka/gifts).



Poor Alan Pevensie. One minute he was falling fast towards the cold ocean, desperately hoping that his parachute wouldn’t be ripped to bits by bullets—this was, you see, not ideal but at least understandable—and next thing, he was landing with a thump on a grassy hillock under a dark, starry sky. When he looked over, he saw five men squatting around a campfire, and beyond them a huge rat, and beyond that—

“Dad!” yelled Edmund, while Lucy waved at him with a white horn, and a third child crawled in the grass towards the rat. It took a moment for Alan to realize that Edmund, the other boy, and the rat were all bound hand and foot, and Lucy too had her legs tied and rope hanging from her left wrist. Also, those men did not look friendly. He ran forwards. 

The first man went down with a headbutt, which Alan hadn’t learned in the army; the second went down with a backswung elbow to the nose. The third, fourth, and fifth went down rather messily as Alan stood and gawped at the giant rat with the tiny sword. Then Lucy and Edmund nearly knocked him over with a tackle-hug. It was all Alan could do to hug them back.

The rat cleaned its blade on the grass as conscientiously as if it were a knight. Then it bowed to him. “That was beautifully done, your Majesty,” it said. “King Peter couldn’t have done better himself.”

“Peter?” Alan hugged his children harder. “Am I dead?”

“It gets stranger,” said Edmund.

“And nicer,” said Lucy.

The third child had a strange, wistful expression on his face. “Don’t worry," he said. "You’re not dead.”

Alan kept on worrying, but then, he was a father. That was part of the job.


End file.
